11/18/06
One hundred and twenty five more dreams until I face the quandry of reorganizing the big purple list on the right hand side of the page. Meh I'll probably just store the list on another page and start at 1000 and go from there. It'll be a metric fuckload of dreams until I reach 10k dreams. Heck by the time I'm eighty and if I'm still maintaining heptapod.org or whatever futuristic evolution of the internet exists I would only be around the 6000 mark in regards to dreams. At the average rate of 125 dreams a year, I'd have to live to be 110 to crack 10k dreams.
leonids
Don't forget the Leonid meteor shower happens on Saturday and continue through to Sunday. Sadly if one doesn't live in the eastern hemisphere then they're fucked five ways from seeing the good stuff.
work
Friday at my current job was a good day. I learned that the other top processor's son was in training because there aren't any other jobs in Colorado Springs and it's a favor to her. Per Dame Rumor, who does brisk business in the office, he's only been able to get landscaping jobs and even then he's only had brief tenures at those establishments.

Also I was halfway reassured by the department manager about the job situation. One of the girls in collections, the one who originally showed me the ropes of that department back in October 2003, said they wouldn't fire me. This made me laugh considering recent events. So I told her that if anything comes up in the next two months I won't be vague and I'll be glad to dish out everything that's happened in the past month.

Why? Why not.

Now I'm waiting to see if my request for using my personal day in the last week of November will be approved so I can complete the second round of the interview process mentioned in yesterday's entry.

INSIDE THE GAME MASTERS STUDIO
With all aspects of life, patience remains a virtue. One of the things that I need to learn as a game master is to understand what it means to be patient. Asbury Park by Night has many stories woven around a central arc with so many minor elements that I feel must be shared with the players.

The game on the 10th was a disaster. Instead of maintaining the passive role of game master, I actively sought to force things down the players throats and muddy the waters. Suddenly the game became my game rather than their game. The most egregious part? The mysterious woman who had picked up the homeless guy who always hangs out in front of Spatafore's. For those of you playing along at home, Spatafore's is a 24 hour pizza joint that has close ties with the nosferatu primogen. Anyone who wants to contact Petey only need to purchase a meatball parm and wait for Petey's arrival.

All tales will be told in good time. Some tales will fall by the wayside. It's not constructive to force the game. Relax and see where the players go with their tale. As a game master I must remember that I can make anything happen even if it completely jumps out of the order of the outline and story that's been mouldering in various notebooks for the past five or six years.

other worlds
If I had three wishes they would certainly be different than the wishes I would've had ten years ago. It was foolishness on my part to wish for money, women and the like when such things are easily acquired with patience and perseverance on the behalf of the individual. Right now I may not be a millionaire but I'm not hurting in the least.

Now if I had three wishes, I'd probably wish to be 220 pounds, have my mouth fixed up and install one of those Farscape tooth slugs. More importantly I'd wish for the knowledge of how to build, repair and use a simple star drive capable of traversing light years in a matter of minutes. Of course the device would have to be created from ordinary household items.

At first I'd probably be selfish and set out exploring for a time, visiting Rigil Kentaurus to watch a triple sunrise. Basking in the glory of the center of the galaxy. Looming at the distance of Pluto around Sirius A. Later I'd just distribute the plans to everyone in the world, gratis, and spend the rest of my life on a relatively vacant world. The problem of lebensraum being solved for now.

Sadly do these other worlds deserve the plague of man who are no better than primate vermin simply because of one individual's selfish desire for a world filled with the sound of the wind in the leaves and the birds singing on those branches in a recoverinf forest shading a litter of coyotes?

Maybe there are enough uninhabited worlds in the universe to accomodate humanity without inconveniencing others.

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